Making an impression on Santa

Jack and Alex got to visit with Santa at our neighborhood party. Jack had prepped by watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and was very excited to see the big man himself. Right before we left to go, Jack and I decided he would bring a present for Santa, a brownie wrapped in cellophane with a bow on top. You know, just to make sure Jack was put on the "Nice" list.

The big moment arrived. Jack approached cautiously and when Santa saw him he said, "Hello Jack! Want to come up here and sit in my lap?" Jack absolutely froze. He hid behind mommy, he hid behind a column, he avoided looking directly at Santa at all cost. So I thought I would try another tact. "Jack, do you have a gift for Santa?" I asked him. Jack looked down at his brownie, looked at Santa and proceeded to chuck the brownie straight at the Man for the North Pole. That's right, my son pegged Santa with a brownie.

Hmmm, Mommy may have to work overtime to get Jack on that "Nice" list.

Dinner talk

Jack finishing up his dinner and looking at the salad...he is reaching across the table to try and get the bowl to serve himself. Last time he did this, he turned the entire table over.

"Jack, what do you need?"

"That bowl, mommy."

"What's in that bowl?"

"Ummmmm...garden. Gardening supplies. Can you please put some of the gardening supplies on my plate?"

I guess that's what I get from having my 3-year old harvest in the vegetable garden with me.

A moment for mom

It was the witching hour, that time when the kids are home from school with me and hubby has yet to arrive. Things always seem a bit more hectic. Jack had already had an accident in his pants while I was downstairs with Alex. While she screamed in her highchair, I sprinted upstairs to clean him up. I dashed back downstairs to her screams, threw some cheerios on her tray, and resumed trying to get dinner ready, when I heard Jack yelling. Not again!

I stomped toward the stairway and looked up at Jack standing on the landing. "What is it, Jack,"I asked, with frustration dripping from my voice.

"I wrote you a thank you note, Mommy." You couldn't make me melt any faster if you had a blowtorch. My little sweetie...

"What does the thank-you note say?" I asked.

"It says "Thank-you note for Mommy. Thank you. I love you.""

"Honey, that is so lovely. What else does it say?"

"With liberty and justice for all."